A mission?

The rhythmic echoes of machinery reverberated through the walls of her makeshift home - though calling it a house would be generous. Ren lived beneath the viaduct, surrounded by scraps of rusted metal and tattered cloth. At 21, she was branded a criminal in the city of Nivara, a place divided by power and despair.

She stared out of the small window she had pieced together from salvaged glass and sighed. Outside, the lower rings of the city sprawled in desolation. People wandered, begging for scraps, their faces etched with hunger and despair. She clenched her fists. How did it get this bad? Her eyes drifted upward, towards the glowing upper rings of the city where the elites basked in opulence. Her brows furrowed as anger bubbled within her.

“It’s all because of them,” she muttered under her breath, her voice sharp with resentment. “They took everything from me.”

Ren turned to the cracked mirror leaning against the wall. A girl stared back - long black hair, lashes that framed her light brown eyes , and cheeks that still held a soft, rosy colour despite the hardships. She hated that face. It was a reminder of all she had lost, all the people who had abandoned her. Her mother, Nessa Locke, came to mind first.

When Ren’s father died in an explosion while working on a project for the Mechanists, her mother had chosen wealth over family. Nessa remarried, aligning herself with Beckett Grey, the ruthless commander of the Mechanists. Ren shuddered at the thought of him. He ruled with an iron fist, and his hatred for scavengers was infamous. If he ever captured her, it would mean a public execution.

Ren pressed her hands against the table in front of the mirror, letting her head hang between her shoulders. I need you, Frost, she whispered, barely audible. The thought of him brought a bitter taste to her mouth, and she forced herself to shake it off.

Grabbing her cloak, she pulled the hood over her head and stepped outside. The streets were eerily empty today, a stark contrast to their usual chaos. Her eyes fell on the vacant space where the Defender Titan once stood - a towering metal robot with a ruby core heart that had protected the city. Now it was a pile of metal.

It was two weeks ago, the Titan disaster. Someone had tampered with the ruby core that powered it, triggering a catastrophic explosion. The sight of its collapse still haunted her - the heart of the machine glowing red as it fell, crushing everything in its path. Hundreds had died, scavengers and Mechanists alike. Ren shook the memory from her mind.

She walked quickly, her destination clear: the Four Horsemen, it was one of the many small pubs in the lower rings. She was going there to meet Cade Rourke, leader of the rebellion. The resistance had been fighting for the scavengers’ rights for years. Ren had joined the day Blade Frost decided to betrayed her to side with the Mechanists.

Her teeth clenched at the thought of Blade. He had been her closest ally - no, more than that - and yet he had chosen the enemy. She whispered to herself, as if to drive the thought away: “He left you. Forget him.”

As she moved through the shadows of the lower rings, she saw her own face staring back at her from weathered posters plastered on the walls. WANTED. CRIMINAL. The Mechanists propaganda painted her as a monster, but she scoffed. The scavengers knew the truth.

“They’ll never catch me,” she muttered, smirking as she pulled her hood lower and slipped into one of the alleys.

Ren moved through the labyrinth of alleys with the grace and speed of a shadow. Her nimbleness allowed her to slip unnoticed from corner to corner, staying well out of sight. She knew she had to be cautious - the military patrols were out in force, scouring the streets for any sign of her.

As she rounded a corner, her heart sank. A patrol was stationed at the intersection ahead. She quickly ducked behind a crumbling wall, pressing her back against the cold stone. Holding her breath, she peeked around the edge, her dark eyes scanning the scene. After what felt like an eternity, the patrol moved on, their heavy boots fading into the distance.

Ren exhaled softly. Thank the gods. Just a few more blocks, and she’d reach her destination: The Four Horsemen.

When she finally stood outside the pub, she paused, taking a deep breath. The worn wooden sign above the door swayed gently in the wind, the faded letters barely readable. She pulled her hood lower over her face, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

The dimly lit pub was buzzing with quiet conversations, the air thick with the smell of smoke and ale. Ren scanned the room, her eyes locking onto a figure sitting in the back booth. Cade Rourke. He was leaned back casually, his arms draped over the backrest of the couch. The soft glow of the overhead light caught his face just right, highlighting his auburn hair, dark, thick eyebrows, and dark brown eyes. He was handsome in a rugged way, something Ren hadn’t fully noticed before.

When he spotted her, a smirk tugged at his lips. She made her way to the booth and slid into the seat across from him.

“Nice to see you again, Cade,” she said, her tone teasing as she glanced him over. “I see you’ve managed to stay out of trouble for once.”

That part genuinely surprised her. Cade was usually sporting some kind of bruise or cut—battle trophies from the fights he so often found himself in.

Cade laughed, a low, warm sound. “I’ve been taking it slow lately. More of an inside man these days.”

Ren raised a skeptical brow. “You? Taking it slow? I find that hard to believe.”

He shrugged, still smiling, but the glint in his eyes hinted he was as restless as ever. Cade lived for chaos, for action, for stirring the pot. That much hadn’t changed.

He cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. “Alright, the reason I called you here… I need you for a mission.”

Ren scoffed, leaning back against the booth. “A mission? You do realize the entire military of the Mechanists is hunting me, right? I’m their most wanted fugitive.”

“I know,” Cade said, his tone calm but firm. “But the rebellion is falling apart, Ren. We need you. You’re the best spy we’ve got.”

She rolled her eyes. “Cade, come on. I’m not exactly in top form right now. I’ll just be a liability.”

“No.” His voice was sharper now, the playful ease gone. His expression darkened, a flicker of pain crossing his face.

“Cade?” Ren leaned forward, her tone softening. “What happened?”

“They took them.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Her eyes widened. “Who?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping for a moment. “My sister. Her kids. The Mechanists raided their home last night. They’re gone.”

Ren’s breath caught in her throat. Cade’s pain was raw, tangible. She had never seen him look so vulnerable, so broken.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, pressing down on her. Ren leaned back, her mind racing.

“I’ll do it,” she said quietly. “Tell me what you need.”